Heavy head, head spinning
by carimasali
Summary: McGonagall is oddly irritated by a teacher she admires, and James gets sedated.
1. Chapter 1

_Back with another fic for my "Too many days until retirement"- series about McGonagall and her students: the Marauders. This one's a bit different: it has multiple chapters, and I'm sorry to announce, it's not as funny as the previous one-shots, and as you'll see, it's not supposed to be funny. There will still be plenty of ridiculous situations, but be warned with these tags:_ **Abuse of Authority** _and_ **Sedatives** _. Nothing is explicit. But it is there, and I wouldn't feel comfortable to publish it without at least some warning, because I hate, hate, hate bad teachers._

 _Otherwise, enjoy the fun chapter! And leave a comment or two!_

* * *

 **Head, Head Spinning**

 **(Or: McGonagall is sorry)**

* * *

 _Chapter 1_

* * *

A new Hogwarts year brought a new teacher for the ever-cursed Defense against the Dark Arts. It was none but Margania Graham, great auror and the first woman to hold a seat as Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot. McGonagall had immense respect for her, had read all her books, especially her book on Defense for the Amateurs, an ' _instructional book for the common wizard and witch to defend themselves in the hopefully low chance they are attacked at home, on the streets or while they are on a broom._ ' McGonagall had a hard-copy – not signed, mind you; McGonagall wasn't like that to ask for any signature. She followed her column on the Daily Prophet and listened whenever she gave an interview on the Wizarding Wireless Network News.

What a shame she had to occupy the 'cursed' position as a teacher for this subject. McGonagall was very skeptical when it came to curses that affected positions and not individuals. It was true, no teacher had lasted longer than a year since… well, a few decades, but it was a difficult subject; and McGonagall believed that if you immersed yourself in something as dark as… the Dark Arts, even if it was solely for defensive purposes, it would have a bad effect on you. Just like the Potions Masters got ill after taking in toxic fumes for decades.

Cursed or not, she doubted Margania Graham would stay in Hogwarts for long; she was too good for the position. Not that being a teacher was any less challenging than being an Auror or a high member of the Wizengamot (especially with _those four_ being in Hogwarts), but they came with their own, very different set of challenges. The worst McGonagall had to fear was some student letting lose a troll in the Dungeons or slipping from the Astronomy Tower (happened before); Margania, she was sure, had to face tons of death-threats every day with her high-ranking position in the Wizarding World.

McGonagall shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she took notice of _those four_ at their table. Of all days it had to be today. Sure, nothing bad had happened yet; no one had set off fireworks or made their cups explode with a trumpet-like echo, or hexed purple whiskers on a poor student's face.

That's because they're three, not four, she thought. Of course! _Lupin_ , he was… discomposed. Maybe that was the reason for their calmness. They probably didn't want to cause any scene without their dear friend present. That was… sweet.

McGonagall turned to her new colleague, still keeping an eye on _those four_ – three.

"I heard your decision to join Hogwarts was made quite suddenly," she said.

Ms. Margania (as she preferred to be called by her colleagues) nodded slowly, lips touching her cup. "There was another project I was considering," she said, "but it didn't work out."

McGonagall wasn't too sure she liked what she implied; that she took the position as teacher, because there wasn't anything better to be had.

"Surely the Wizengamot keeps you busy," she said, tone an inch cooler than before.

Ms. Margania only raised a delicate brow, but didn't give any other sign she had noticed her change in tone. "It does, but as you know the Wizengamot is very well organized at times, and members do relieve each other from their duties, sometimes. And I'm not Chief Warlock anymore, so that relieves me of many duties. I've had more time on my hands this past year than… in those three years I was in that position."

McGonagall nodded. "Well, if you take your job as a teacher seriously you'll see how busy you'll be."

She smiled. "That's what I'm hoping." Her eyes wandered from table to table, observing the students. "Any advice?"

"Concerning what?"

"Your students."

"Mr. Caviz died about half-way into the second half of the year," McGonagall said. "He was ill and old," she added at Margania's odd look. "He kept classes mostly theoretical, so there might be a lot of catching up to do."

"Hm, and your students?"

"We have a lot," she said.

"I can see that," she replied, as dryly as McGonagall had. "Any trouble-makers I have to watch out for?"

Her thoughts immediately conjured the image of _those four_ , but she made an effort to be fair. "There's a difference between trouble-makers in class and outside of class," she answered. "You have to be careful, because not all students are equal. Some take longer to learn, others manage the spells almost by instinct." Pettigrew and Black came into mind. "The challenge will be to keep them all on the same level.

"Homework is another challenge. You'll learn that some which do almost perfect in class, butcher their homework as if they're just learning to write – or did their homework on the last minute." She thought of Potter, who always did exceptionally well in class, but his homework was always illegible and with gross grammatical errors.

Ms. Margania smiled. "I remember school, McGonagall," she replied. "And I remember what you were like, too."

McGonagall huffed. "I always did well in class and on my homework."

"I didn't," Margania said, nipping her drink. "But I did well in life."

McGonagall's brows furrowed. "What are you saying?"

"But you didn't answer my actual question," she said with a small smile. "I know about all the challenges a student can face in class, because I've been on both ends – the good and the bad student; but you didn't tell me what students I should watch out for."

"Watch out for," McGonagall snorted. "These are children, not criminals, Margania."

"I'll have you know, many troublemakers in school become troublemakers in life later, Minerva."

"Well that is the wrong attitude, _Margania_ ," she said, coldly, and took a deep breath. "There is no point in arguing about this. All you should know is this: treat your students fairly and they'll respect you. I'll be the first to admit, there are a few repeat-offenders, but it's the usual pranks-"

Her lips curled. "Hm, the usual pranks…that would be…"

"Oh the usual jinks: turning people's hair purple, jinxing people so their heads grow like balloons; scaring off Mrs. Norris; ignoring curfew…"

"Hm, am I right to assume the usual culprits are boys?"

"Well, yes, but you know how boys are at that age."

She raised a brow. "Turning people's hair purple, torturing a cat, twisting the natural features of a human person…"

McGonagall frowned at her.

"… do they also pull at the girls' hair?"

"You know what they're like," McGonagall said. "And you know what the girls do then."

Margania said nothing, so McGonagall saw herself compelled to answer her own question. "They kick them and hex them. Seriously, you cannot compare school with the streets. If you do you'll start seeing dark wizards everywhere."

Margania shrugged. "You've heard the rumours, Minerva," was the only thing she said, and McGonagall dropped the subject.

* * *

Of course, dinner would have been incomplete without a bit of drama. At some point, right after Dumbledore had finished his welcome speech, those four – three covered themselves with their hoods, until their faces where almost invisible, and stood up with a dramatic air.

McGonagall's body became as tense as a board. Her eyes followed their every step forward, and one by one the rest of the student body caught on this odd situation; they gradually fell silent.

The three reached the teachers' table, and stood solemnly before Dumbledore, whose beard trembled dangerously, and whose eyes twinkled. If McGonagall could, she would have killed him then and there.

The three boys cleared their throat, and as one (she suspected Potter) took out a stick with a picture of Remus Lupin, and another (Peter Pettigrew, naturally) took out a stick with Remus Lupin's name written in large letters, the other (Sirius Black, of course) announced loud and clear,

"We shall fast for our dear friend Remus Lupin!"

Pettigrew and Potter hit the floor with their sticks. "Remus Lupin!"

McGonagall lowered her head.

"And if you don't…" Black raised his fist, long sleeve slipping and revealing a pale arm. "Thou be damned!"

"Thou be damned!" They hit the floor with the sticks again, and shuffled out of the hall like repentant monks.

Dumbledore looked delighted and chuckled under his beard, but McGonagall… McGonagall was enraged and embarrassed, which one she felt more strongly was hard to tell.

She wanted to punch Dumbledore for taking this so lightly. Sometimes she felt like he didn't take the boys seriously at all. She hated always being the bad witch; when was his turn?

She heard Margania snort beside her, and looked at her.

"Boys will be boys, huh, Minerva?"

McGonagall ignored her for the rest of the night.

* * *

 _I love McGonagall.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Back with another chapter! And don't forget to comment and tell me what you think.  
_

* * *

 _Chapter 2_

* * *

"I wish they'd serve us coffee," sighed James, mussing his hair. "I'm in the real mood for coffee right now."

"You're _twelve_ , Potter," Marlene McKinnon said, showing up out of nowhere it seemed.

Sirius nudged his best friend. "I always forget you're the youngest," he said over Peter's snickering. "In less than two months I'll be a whole year older than you!"

James rolled his eyes and elbowed Sirius, who returned the gesture with the same sentiment. Then he turned to Marlene, who was peacefully eating her fruit salad. "You know you're not allowed to sit with us, right?"

"I know, and I don't care usually about your dumb rule, but I don't want to be with the girls right now."

"What, another bird fight?"

" _Cat_ fight, mate," Sirius supplied.

She gave James an impressive glare, despite her milk-mustache. Her hand was still blindly reaching for her napkin – which James had switched with a slice of cheese. "For the record, we fought over you."

"Me?" asked James with a hand on his chest, reminding Marlene a lot of his mother.

She nodded haughtily. "Over you and Sirius to be exact. They were sayin' how Professor Gra- er, Professor _Margana_ -"

"Margania," Peter corrected.

"Stupid name," mumbled Marlene and sighed deeply. "The girls were saying that Professor Marg _ania_ was right in taking points off of you and being so cross an' all that." She crossed her arms. "I don't like her."

Peter frowned. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Margana, of course."

"Margania," corrected Sirius. "Why do you hate her anyway? She likes _you!_ "

She scowled. "Yes, but she didn't like how I stood up for James, you know?"

Peter nodded, filling his plate with pumpkin cake again. "Yeah, I thought she'd take points from you, too."

"She would have, if I was a boy," said Marlene.

"I wouldn't provoke her, though," warned Peter.

"I won't provoke her, don't worry," she answered sharply, propping her crossed arms on the table, and pouting. "I just… I really don't like her. She reminds me of Aunt Cassandra. Always telling cousin Andre how he's just like his father…"

"Yes, but don't provoke her," Sirius said, suddenly very earnest. "You don't want to get on her bad side if you can help it. James and I can't, but you-"

"'James and I'…" Peter shook his head, lips twitching in amusement. "You sound so posh, Sirius."

"Shut up," muttered Sirius. He crossed his arms.

"Margania hates _all_ the boys," Marlene pointed out.

"But she hates James and me especially."

James, however, merely shrugged. "I think you're reading too much into it. Margania's a gorgon, alright, but she can't just do whatever she likes."

Marlene raised her brows and raised her cup with pumpkin juice. "Not like you, huh?"

"I operate on a different _level_ , Marlene."

"Sure you do, Jamesie," she said and jumped up, as the girls waved at her. "I've got to go, they won't wait for me."

"I thought she and the girls had had a fight?" Peter asked, watching the girls leave.

"Who cares," Sirius grumbled and turned to James. "Listen mate, I agree with you about Margania being a gorgon and all that, but I wouldn't provoke her too much, alright?"

James gave him an odd look. "Since when are you worried about a teacher?"

Sirius shrugged and turned back to his breakfast, but, as James couldn't help but notice, didn't eat anything. James waited until the fourth-year sitting beside Sirius left, and leaned in close.

"Did something happen, Sirius?" he whispered. Peter watched attentively.

Sirius shoved him away. "Nothing happened."

Just then, the owls arrived, and one of them dropped a small packet and a letter on James' place.

Peter's eyes widened. "Your parents sent you a present already?"

James weighed the small, vial-shaped packet in his hand and shrugged. "Seems like it," he said and opened the letter. "But I don't know… what… for…" His eyes flittered across the lines, narrowing the further he read.

"No!" he cried, opening the packet, revealing a beautiful small bottle. "She sent me Sleekeasy's Hair Potion!"

Sirius and Peter roared with laughter, but James was inconsolable. He put the fine glass down and cried, "I should've our stash away!"

"Wouldn't have worked," Sirius laughed. "Your father would've just made you more."

* * *

"Poor Remus," said Peter anxiously, as they filed into the classroom. Fridays after lunch was their second class of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The boys took their usual seats: Sirius and James as far apart as possible, and Peter sitting next to Kingsley Shacklebolt, on the desk before James. "It's the third day we have classes and we already have three essays to write and a whole chapter to prepare for."

Sirius shrugged, propping his hip on James' desk. "He'll manage. He's done so before."

"Besides, the teachers know about… you know…" James wiggled his brows, "his _problem_. They might make an exception."

Obviously, Kingsley managed to understand the only part he wasn't supposed to hear. He turned to them with a curious look and asked, "I heard his mum's ill, is that true?"

"Usually yes," Sirius answered flippantly. "This time it's him who got ill, but no worries, King, he'll be back in our room before this week is over."

"How do _you_ know?"

"We're in touch," answered James in his stead, leaning back against his chair and stretching his arms. "Poor bloke… he was so upset about having to miss the first days of classes that we almost considered staying behind as moral support."

Kingsley laughed. "Oh, you're so kind…"

Sirius clasped James' shoulder and sighed dramatically. "But Moony wouldn't have it. He sacrificed himself for our education's sake… to have us suffer this… oppressive state of the present school system and-"

"You sure you know what you're saying, mate?" Kingsley asked, eyes bright and laughing. "You keep using these awful big words, do you know what they even mean?"

"By 'oppressive' you mean? Of course I do! Have you ever met my mother?"

They laughed together, and loud enough to make heads turn.

"Silence!" called Margania suddenly. The boys turned their heads so quickly, their necks ached. There she stood, just by her desk, light hear tied back into a bun held by a long pencil. Her robes were a midnight blue, and puffed by the sleeves like clouds. Her gaze was very stern and didn't soften an inch as Sirius returned to his place.

"I expect all of you to be seated when I enter the classroom," Margania said and flipped the book open. Just then, none but Lily Evans, the girl with the flaming red hair, stepped meekly into the classroom. She would have preferred to go unnoticed, but of course everyone looked up.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Lily said, politely. "I had to accompany a first-year to the Hospital Wing. A boy turned her nails into claws."

Margania simply nodded and gestured at her to take a seat. "No problem, Ms. Evans." And, in a mutter, "A boy, of course…"

She cleared her throat. "We'll continue where we left off last time; I hope," she said emphatically, "you have all read the chapter I assigned you to read. I expect you to know the characteristics of the defensive spells and tells of -"

There was a giggle somewhere in the back of the room. Her face darkened. "I see _somebody_ thinks that being led astray by Hinkypunks is funny."

A tense silence fell upon the room, like always when a student is berated in class. The student in question looked up – it was Evan Rosier; and nobody looked as uncomfortable in that moment as he.

"Rosier, tell the class what you find so funny."

"Nothin'…" he mumbled.

"Nonsense," she said, sharply. "Maybe it's a mistake on my part; maybe I've not sufficiently explained to you why Hinkypunks are dangerous, or you're just not interested in…" She waved her wand in a sharp motion and a folded piece of parchment flew from Rosier's hand into hers. She held it up, for everyone to see. "Did this make you laugh?"

He nodded once, blood rushing to his head and turning him a startling red. Margania hesitated, then put the note on her desk. "You may pick it up after class if you behave."

She returned to the front of the classroom, and the lesson continued.

* * *

Margania Graham was not a bad teacher. She was concise in her instructions, and her experience in the field gave her ample examples to give her students. The lessons were divided into a first half of theory and then a second half of practice; and in between a little bit of homework.

Distantly, the three boys worried at how much poor Remus would have to catch up once he was back in Hogwarts. The full moon had been on the day they arrived at the school, but it was Friday and he was not yet back – unusual, even for him.

"He must really be sick then," James whispered behind Peter, the latter not daring to move an inch in fear of Margania.

"Professor, I thought the Ministry had marked all the places where Hinkypunks are seen," Sara Harris said, after raising her hand.

Margania waved a hand. "Hinkypunks wander," she answered. "It is true, they inhabit mostly bogs and - Potter, where else do Hinkypunks reside?" she asked sharply as she caught James moving restlessly on his chair again.

He was startled for just a second. "In bogs-"

"I said that already."

He frowned. "And _wetlands_ ," he said emphatically.

She nodded, and turned back to Sara Harris. "And you need to remember that landscapes change with the climate. It's not as obvious here in Britain, but in other countries bogs and wetlands go dry, while dry spaces go… wet. In places with a lot of humidity and rivers, where the mist hangs low and heavy, that's where they're seen quite often lately. With the urbanization and people abandoning distant villages, I wouldn't be surprised if in the next couple of decades we'll also start seeing – Potter! Can't you just sit still for one moment?"

James tensed up, a flush rising up his neck. He was still for one moment, a long moment for him. Then – it must have been unconsciously – he shifted again.

"Are you bored?" Margania asked him.

"No, professor."

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"What? No!" A wave of suppressed laughter went across the room – Severus Snape's face lit up with obvious glee - and his flush deepened as did the evident dislike in James' eyes. Margania's was no less evident.

"Then sit still for once," she ordered.

"I'll try," he mumbled and tried to focus again on the chapter.

The class continued in relative calmness. Sirius had, of course, not liked at all the way Margania had treated James, and was less than eager to participate in class. It didn't bother Margania, if she even noticed; for her a good boy was a quiet boy, and Sirius knew how to be quiet, while James had never had to sit still in his entire life.

It showed.

Usually he put a little more effort in sitting still if a teacher asked, but James disliked Margania. So he tried even less than usual. And Margania, of course, noticed. Mostly she ignored him, but always with a side-way glare that promised nothing good. This, Sirius noticed; and the rest of the class, too, but none of them cared as much for James as Sirius. He disliked the professor even more than James.

"Professor Graham-"

Margania started and fixed an angry stare at Peter, who seemed to shrink on his chair.

"Professor Margania," started Peter and promptly forgot what he wanted to ask. "Our homework?"

The class groaned.

"Indeed, Pettigrew," she nodded. "Put your homework on your desks and I'll collect them."

The children did as they were told. Margania waved her hand, and one by one all the written assignments landed on her outstretched hands. She counted through them-

"Ms. Carrow, I see your assignment is missing."

Alecto Carrow was a short girl with broad shoulders for her age. Her hair was tied in a messy braid, for she hadn't gotten quite the hang out of braiding her own hair, yet. She took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said, making an effort to speak loud and clear, like Margania had ordered them to. "My pumpkin juice fell on my bag and got everything wet. Even my homework." As proof, she lifted her school book, the hardcover an ugly brown and the pages all wrinkled.

"Who did this?" Margania asked, frowning.

Alecto glared at James Potter.

"Aw, come on!" he cried, as Margania turned to glare at him in turn. "It wasn't even aimed at you!"

"Ten points off Gryffindor," said Margania

His eyes widened as an angry murmur went through the Gryffindor students. "But why?" he asked.

"You don't know how to behave."

"Oh and taking points off Gryffindor will teach me?"

Her brows arched in disbelief. "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?"

James bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've said that," he said, eventually.

"Meet me after class to talk about your detention," Margania said.

James bit back a groan.

"I expect your assignment to be well done, Potter," she said, warningly. He shrugged and nodded.

Margania continued to go through the homework, until she stopped at one parchment – James'. She looked at him with furrowed brows.

"What's this?" she asked, raising the parchment. It was, in short, a scribbled, blotchy, mess. There was even a tiny drawing in one corner.

"My assignment," he answered, matter-of-factly. "You said eleven inches-"

"I know that, but…" She read through it. "Have you got any clue what you wrote here?"

"I do! You asked us to write about the second chapter, give a summary and then-"

"Potter, do you know how to write 'secluded'?"

"Yeah."

"Write it."

"What?"

She stopped at his desk, placing the unwritten side of the parchment on his desk. "Write down 'secluded'."

He hesitatingly scribbled down the word. Her brows arched again. It was written correctly.

"And look at this?" she pointed at something on his parchment. "What's this?"

He looked, as did his neighbor, and Kingsley and Peter. "That's… uh… a duck, I think?" He looked a bit confused and embarrassed.

"What's the rules for handing out assignments?" asked Margania.

James leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms. "Legible, no doodles, and always in the format. And the name, obviously."

"You forgot about _everything_ except your name, which, as I notice, you managed to write correctly." James lowered his head, fingers digging into his arms. "You will stay back and rewrite your homework until I'm happy with it."

James groaned, and rolled his eyes once her back was turned to him.

He still couldn't sit still in class.

* * *

"I can't wait till Remus gets back," said Peter to Sirius after class was over. Sirius still wore a scowl, and he would continue to wear it until James returned, dejected and angry, and fingers and head sore from all the writing.

"Naïve of you to think anything will change with Moony, Peter," Sirius said, bumping his shoulder against a Severus Snape, and making a face in response to the glare. "If anything she'll like Remus even less than James."

"You think all teachers know about… Remus?"

"I mean, he takes their classes, so yeah, they do know about Remus, Peter," Sirius replied mockingly.

"Not that, I mean about… his _thing_."

Sirius paused. "I hope not… though it would make sense with Slughorn."

"Slughorn doesn't like anybody who doesn't do well in a subject," argued Peter.

"True," admitted Sirius.

"I wish I was good at something," said Peter miserably. "He always ignores me."

Sirius almost – almost – said something mean, but James caught up with them, gasping and quite in a mood. Sirius looked at him carefully.

"You okay, mate?"

James shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Never been better," he gritted. "That old… she made me rewrite my homework three times! Three times, Sirius! And she always got upset, because sometimes I just… dunno… forgot to write a word and did something else." He shook his head, glasses quivering, and lips a thin line.

"I hope Remus comes back soon," he said, finally. "He always tries to see things the good way, you know? Even when he doesn't do that for himself."

Sirius felt a slight pang of jealousy, but brushed it aside fairly quick. He recognized how angry James was inside – perhaps, indignant was a more appropriate word; and began to think of ways to cheer James up.

The dungbombs! And that firework spell Pete had found in Mrs. Potter's old book. Sirius grinned, dragging his friends along by their sleeves. He had just the right, perfect idea.


	3. Chapter 3

_Yep, sorry for the delay. Whoever reads this story, I really hope you'll enjoy it; I had a lot of fun writing it._

* * *

 **Chapter 3 -**

* * *

Remus Lupin returned on the first weekend, and his friends welcomed him as if he had returned from war. McGonagall herself couldn't blame them; Lupin was – or so she felt at least – the voice of reason in that group – even if his attempts fell short.

Most teachers were aware of Lupin's condition, but not all, for some of them were not trustworthy. Margania would not have been told, but she knew anyway from her work in the Ministry of Magic; and this only worked against him.

Dumbledore had forbade her to mention anything, and she kept her word. This did not stop her from eying Lupin suspiciously whenever he so much as raised his voice or shifted in his chair.

Young Lupin did not excel in class of Defense Against the Dark Arts the same way his two best friends or Severus Snape did (who was always side-eying Remus Lupin as well), but whenever he used a spell it was done meticulously. As such he was a more pleasant student than his friends. He had a tidy, if a bit scrabbly, handwriting, but almost no spelling or grammatical errors – unlike James Potter.

Remus Lupin always aided his dear friend with his spelling and his grammar. Remus Lupin paid attention to those things, while James Potter could simply not bother with it.

"Y'know James," said Remus as he put down the Potions essay James had written, "your essays would be much better if you just bothered with being clean."

"I don't know, Remus," said James. He currently lay on the couch in the common room, legs hanging off the back, and head on the coffee table. "My ideas are too fast for my quill. My hand can't keep up. As soon as I put down the first word I'm thinking of somethin' else again."

"That much is obvious," replied Remus, eying the " _Snivellus stirs his hair clockwhite"_ written where the ' _stir twice clockwise and then four time counter-clockwise, and put fire out immediately less you want the potion to explode'_ \- part should have been. "You wrote 'paper' wrong, by the way – ' _paber_ '," he added, chuckling and shaking his head. "And what's this? I can't tell if it's a donkey or a -"

"That's supposed to be a werewolf talking to the moon, Remus," James replied sharply. "Wait, didn't I erase it from the parchment?"

Remus squinted his eyes. Sirius, previously uninterested in James' homework, leaned in to see for himself.

"I don't know where you get donkeys and werewolves," he commented, shaking his head. "That looks like Snivellus brushing his hair to me."

"No way you see that!" cried Remus and James at once.

"Go away, Sirius," said Remus, shoving his friend away. "Don't you have homework to do?"

"I'd rather die," said Sirius and flopped back down on his spot.

"I don't understand why _you_ don't help James out," argued Remus. "Your assignments are always perfect."

"Nobody has better handwriting than Sirius," agreed Peter, struggling enormously with his Transformation homework. "Last time I read one of your assignments I almost cried from how perfect it was."

"You did cry, didn't you?" said James.

"No, I cried because I'd finished reading 'the Hobbit'," Peter replied, tossing back his head with a remonstrative glare.

"What's 'the Hobbit?'" asked James and Sirius.

Remus and Peter stared at them as if they had grown four heads and lost two arms each. They exchanged a look.

"Purebloods," they said, simultaneously.

* * *

On Tuesday they had Defense against the Dark Arts again – no one in their group could manage a hint of excitement despite the interesting subjects. Remus was still behind, and with McGonagall's recent homework addition...

"She could've at least made an exception," argued Peter as they walked down the corridor to the classroom. The door was still locked; the other students were already gathered before it.

Remus tightened his lips, adjusting the bag on his shoulders. He was already looking much better than before, less pale and the spark in his eyes had returned. "I don't want more exceptions!" he argued right back. "It's already bad enough that-"

Marlene McKinnon walked up to them, blond hair in tight braids. Remus' mouth snapped shut.

"I hope you've done your homework," she said as a greeting. "Lily's just heard from some forth year that Margana-"

"Margania," Sirius corrected with an insufferable sigh.

"- is in a really bad mood."

"Woke up on the wrong arm, I guess," said James.

"On the wrong leg, mate," Sirius corrected yet again, but with a little more forgiveness than with Marlene. James grinned, then looked at Marlene and frowned.

"What's _that_?" he asked, rudely.

She rolled her eyes and tugged at a flower stuck in a braid. "A flower, obviously," she sniffed, then softened as she slid the daisy out. "Lily got lots of them – she tried a new spell, you see? – and we used it for our braids."

Sirius muttered something and grinned.

Marlene glared at him. She decided to ignore him, and handed James and Remus a daisy each.

"I heard you were sick, Remus," she said, the only thing hinting at her shyness was the shuffling of her feet. "The daisy will make you look pretty."

His friends cooed and hooted, making Remus blush all the more. James stuck the daisy behind Remus' ear, wrapping an arm round his shoulders and dragging him along when the door to the classroom finally opened.

"See, mate?" he said, sticking the flower on his robe. "Now you and I are equally pretty. What do you think, Sirius? Be honest."

"Always, mate," Sirius said with a dramatic flair. "The prettiest of you two is still – me."

They laughed loudly, drawing disapproving glares from some of the girls (Lily was among them, but who cared about her) and a haughty one from Severus Snape (and the boys cared even less about him.)

Kingsley, who was already seated like the good student he was, brightened as he noticed the flowers on Remus and James.

"Back from the beauty shop?" he asked.

James sat down at the table behind him and Peter. He adjusted the flower: with it he felt a lot like his father, who always attached a flower to his festive robes.

"Marlene got it from Evans, Evans charmed them."

"Oh really? What were they like before?" asked Kingsley, eying the delicate flower when James handed it to him.

He shrugged. "Who cares?"

"Margania will," Peter said, eyes glancing nervously at the door.

James snorted and stuck the daisy back on his robe. "She cares about everything," he said.

"And not in a good way," Kingsley said. "Did you hear how she yelled at Malfoy today?"

"Yeah, I heard something, but…" James and Peter leaned it closely, eager for more. "Not the details."

"Well, I don't know the details either, but I heard from Prewett that she put him on the spot for – well, he didn't know what Malfoy did either, but he heard from Evelyn that Margania caught Malfoy smuggling…" He raised his brows. "Tobacco."

Peter and James' eyes widened. "Doesn't sound much like Malfoy," James said. "The Malfoys are more _winers_ than smokers."

Peter and Kingsley stared at him. "What?"

He stared right back, as if they were the ones not making sense. "What?" he replied.

"What was that word?" asked Kingsley.

James frowned. "What word?"

"You said – w-winers?"

"Oh!" His eyes widened in recognition. "Uh, yeah, they drink a lot of wine, I guess. I've an aunt in Italy somewhere, she said something about the Malfoys having a graveyard there."

Kingsley barked out a laugh. "A graveyard?"

James's cheeks turned a light pink, but he too was grinning. He reached out far to punch him. "Vineyard, you arse-"

"Language, Potter! If you can't write it, then at least speak it correctly!"

James jumped in his seat, blood rushing up to his face like a flood, while Kingsley and Peter turned their heads back to the front so quickly their necks cracked.

Yes, Professor Margania had arrived, in all her glory: midnight robe with smooth, tight sleeves and a high neck, and a gold necklace. Her hair was pulled back as always, but not as elegantly: there were a few lose strands brushing her forehead and cheek. James felt humiliation stream through him when he thought her pretty.

Merlin, if Sirius ever found out…

"Five points from Gryffindor," she said and opened her book.

The Gryffindors present groaned, and Kingsley gave James an apologetic look. Margania hit the table with her wand twice – a howling sound that made everyone jump and flinch, until everyone quieted.

"We'll get the homework out of the way first, then we will focus on the task at hand." She clapped her hands and all the rolls of parchment lifted and floated from the students' desks to Margania's, where they piled up and were tied by magic with a silver net.

James looked back to where Sirius was seated. Their eyes met, as they usually did. James grinned. "House elves!" he said, loudly, but wanting to say it quietly. Margania heard. In fact, everybody heard.

The teacher sighed and pinched her nose. "Potter, do you take anything seriously?" she asked.

James turned back on his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, leg bouncing. "Of course I do!" he answered, trying to keep his indignation hidden. He suspected, going by Margania's tightening lips, that he did not really succeed. "Of course I do…" he mumbled.

"Then what's that talk about house elves, Potter?" she demanded to know. "You brain is like a beehive: a lot of humming, a lot of buzzing, slightly structured, but otherwise chaos!"

Sirius balled his fists and looked at Remus. Remus, however, was staring at his table. Sirius felt betrayed, and found surprisingly solace in Marlene. She did not look happy either and shook her head.

"Bees make honey!" snapped James, and Remus gripped his table harder. This time he looked to Sirius and they both exchanged helpless shrugs.

 _James, please shut up!_ He tried to tell his friend via brain waves. James didn't hear; his brain had a different frequency.

"You have yet to produce in class anything like it!" Margania yelled, flushing.

"That's a lie!" he cried. "My exercises are always almost perfect immediately! At first try!"

"That's – you… you arrogant little toad!"

"Quack." James slapped a hand to his mouth.

The whole class held their breath.

Margania inhaled sharply. Her neck was red, and the blotches were spreading on her face.

"Potter-"

He grimaced. "Attention? I mean – detention?"

She pursed her lips and went back to her desk. "Meet me after class."

"Ah, so you're not taking any points off?"

The boy sitting beside James elbowed him hard. "Shut up!" he hissed.

"Yes, Potter. Listen to Aubrey; he is right about something for once."

Jim Aubrey blushed and crossed his arms. James glared at Margania's back, hoped with a thousand fires that she could feel it and made her cold.

* * *

Remus huffed a sigh as they walked out of DADA class. "What a mess…"

Sirius nodded, stuffing his quill and parchment carelessly into his back. A Slytherin bumped into Pettigrew and laughed when the boy stumbled and dropped his things. Sirius, in retaliation, threw his vial of ink at him. Black ink spread on the floor. Another mess.

"Black!" Flitwick's voice, though squeaky, did not lack in fierceness. He made the spilled ink disappear with a flick of the wand and took 10 points from Gryffindor.

"You already have detention I have heard," Flitwick squeaked. "Next time I won't be so kind."

"Yes, Moony, what a mess," Sirius said, having already forgotten about the house points. "That Margania troll… I'd rather eat with my grandmother than with her!"

"Luckily, you won't ever have to," replied Remus, leaning against the wall while the three waited for James. "How bad do you think it is?"

"You think he'll get detention?" Peter asked.

"That would be the second time in the three weeks," Remus said, worriedly. "Do you think she'd go to Dumbledore?"

Sirius scoffed. "He hasn't done anything bad enough to waste Dumbledore's time." He crossed his arms. "I bet James gets detention again. Probably even extra homework."

Remus sighed. "Great. More homework for me to spell-check."

Just then James walked out. The door fell shut behind him. Sirius studied him. He still had a light flush, a flash of irritation in his eyes, but otherwise looked completely-

"- fine. The old cow just wants me to come in earlier."

Remus fished a cookie out of his bag and pressed it into his hand.

Sirius frowned, threw an arm over his shoulder. They matched their steps. "Why?"

James shrugged. Already the worry was fading; he was becoming good old James again.

"No idea, mate. Maybe she'll give me extra work or something." He shrugged. "Who cares anyway?"

Remus looked worried. "James, she's a _teacher_."

"She's an auror," Peter emphasised. "She must have… so many connections in the Ministry…"

James made a face. "So do _my_ parents," he said. "Any my parents are a lot nicer than _she_." He looked down on himself and froze. "Oh no!" he cried.

"What?" his friends replied. Peter's stomach growled.

James' shoulders dropped. "I lost the daisy! Marlene's going to kill me."

Remus patted his back. "Marlene won't notice, James," he said.

Sirius made a face, "You don't know much about women, do you Moony? Girls notice everything all the time. Especially if you don't want them to notice. And my mother is the worst of them all."


	4. Chapter 4

_Finally!_

 _I'm sorry for the wait, but I didn't get around to finishing this chapter and publishing it until today._

 _A big THANK-YOU to all of you who left a review. I always smile when I read them._

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

Tuesdays were by far the worst weekdays. Especially for students. Remus was stirring his pumpkin juice, absently staring at his book for DADA, when a hand clutched his own hand loose from the spoon, and set it (the spoon) on the table.

Remus lifted his eyes, and asked: "What?"

Peter shook his head. "You don't stir _pumpkin juice_ , Remus."

James put his glass down. "We were talking about after detention," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "And then Sirius asked a question."

"Oh…" Remus turned to look at Sirius, who was fighting with his knife against the sausage. The sausage was winning. "What was the question?"

Sirius put his knife down with a sign and took instead his fork. "Just -" he grunted as the sausage slipped away again. "We could meet up in the Entrance Hall after detention, and go down to Hagrid's. King said he's storing something for Care of Magical Creatures."

Remus shut his book. "I don' see why not," he replied, starting to cut his potatoes in even slices. "Though I still have to get my history essay done."

Sirius scrunched his nose with open disgust. "I mean if you'd rather spend your precious time doing _that_ instead of looking at magical creatures…"

"But… we don't even take that class yet," Peter said. "I don't understand why-"

James rolled his eyes. "Because we want to?" he replied. "Because it's interesting? Because – Remus, pay attention, this might change your mind – we get to learn something?"

Remus's eyes narrowed, but his lips twitched. James grinned, reaching out to nudge him. "I've got you, don't I?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "My mind was already made up," he argued, and stuffed his mouth full with potatoes to hide his smile. It worked: he choked and started coughing. Peter reached out and hit his back several times until Remus could breathe again.

Sirius slammed his fork on the table, startling everyone around him. "This stupid sau- James! Give me your knife, mine doesn't work."

"Hey – _no!_ that's my knife! Get your own!"

"Remus, you're a nice lad, give me-"

Peter rolled his eyes, and hacked the sausage with his own. Peter's knife had reach, but it wasn't sharp enough. The sausage slipped from beneath the knife's sharp blade, and landed with a plop in the bowl of porridge, and splattered far and thick, landing on the girls.

The girls shrieked. Their hair and uniforms – ruined, destroyed, defiled. Oat dripped from Marlene's long nose. Dried fruit splotched down from Lily Evans' once shiny red hair. Milk sliding down Mary McDonald's cheeks.

In the commotion that ensued, the boys' laughter went unheard.

* * *

The girls fled, taking refuge in the lavatory, and the student body calmed down soon after.

Remus looked at the time and frowned. "You should get going," he said to James, who hummed noncommittally. Remus sighed. "James-"

"It's not that far. I'll be there in five minutes, don't worry."

"You really should go, mate," Sirius said.

Maybe it was his voice, though there was no unusual intonation in it; maybe it was that Sirius was telling James what to do. Be it as it may, James paused and looked at Sirius for a long moment. He put down his fork with a sigh, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright… if you insist…" he sighed. "But it's your fault is she gets angry with me, lead?"

Remus arched a brow, mouth curling into a grin. "Lead?"

James groaned. " _Deal!_ You guys are the worst! _Merlin!"_ He threw his bag over his shoulder and marched off.

They watched him leave until he turned right after passing through the large door of the Great Hall. Peter's brow was furrowed with concern.

"Is he mad at us?" he asked.

"No," Remus answered. "He just doesn't like Margania."

Sirius snorted. "Who does, that's the question."

"Plenty of people like her," Remus pointed out.

"Yeah, but none of these people are any good, Moony." He pointed a finger at him. "You can't trust people who like bad people. Look at Snivellus. He doesn't like anybody who is good."

Remus rolled his eyes. "If you say so…"

* * *

The classroom was already open when they arrived. The three boys walked in; had they been four instead of three, they would have each gone to their places. But James was already seated, as were Aubrey, his resigned seat neighbour, and Kingsley.

Sirius headed right towards him, shoving Severus aside as he passed him, and nudged James' shoulder. James turned slowly, blinked owlishly from behind his glasses, before a broad smile parted his lips.

"You took your time," he said.

"Yes well, what reason did we have to hurry?"

"Me. I've been here for over five minutes," James pointed out.

"And you definitely look like it," Remus murmured, but loud enough for them to hear.

James smiled, head rocking slightly to the side before he straightened again. He tried to say something – paused, a frown darkening his features for a moment.

Sirius nudged him again. "James?"

James looked up, and blinked as he saw Sirius again. "I…" He smiled, weakly. "I… uh… I forgot what I wanted to say."

"Couldn't have been that important then," said Peter. "That's what me mum says when I forget."

Remus slid a sheet of parchment from his folder and placed it on James' desk. "It's a bit late, but I've fixed your last mistakes."

James gave the parchment a brief look; his eyes narrowed, mouth twisting with something that could only have been anger. He shoved the homework aside; when it didn't suddenly disappear he put his bag over it.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance.

"Is everything alright?" Remus asked, gently.

"What did Margania want? What did she say?" Sirius asked.

James opened his mouth, then shut it again, waving a hand in dismissal. "Not much," he said and shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

Sirius glared at him, stepping closer to him. "Of course it ma-"

"Oh shit!" Remus gave a startled jump and dragged Sirius with him. Sirius turned his head, hair falling before his eyes. No wonder Moony was so jumpy: Margania had just walked in, robe billowing like a lofty cloud.

Her cold eyes wandered, taking in the classroom. Three students were down with the flue, one was down because James and Sirius had jinxed his ears to grow and flip-flop whenever he sneezed. Then, her eyes fixed briefly, but noticeably, on James. Seemingly satisfied, she cleared her throat and turned her full attention to the class.

* * *

Class was not very interesting, or so Sirius thought. He'd done the reading during lunch, given the chapter another once-over to check he had actually read the right chapter, and so of course he knew everything Margania was talking about. Her voice would have been pleasant had she not been so… insufferable.

Yes, Sirius didn't like her – so what? She had done nothing so far to earn it. She was a good teacher, he supposed, but so was McGonagall, and she was not like that!

They were still going over Hinkypunks. Sirius would have yawned, had he not been focused on James instead.

At first, he couldn't quite put a finger on what exactly bothered him. He looked around, but no one else had noticed anything wrong. McKinnon was scribbling on her parchment, but her movements were too light to be notes on the class. She was probably doodling again. Remus – oh, Remus was _definitely_ taking notes. Whenever he did, his lips would curl and his brow would furrow in concentration. Snivellus was _not_ taking notes, but he _was_ writing. Somehow Sirius doubted he was drawing like McKinnon or writing a diary like McDonald.

McDonald. What a boring name. It was so common Sirius didn't even remember what her first name was. Probably something like Mary or Anne or-

Sirius' eyes widened as if he had been blind all his life before. Watching Alecto shifting in her chair for the past five minutes, had done it; he knew now what was wrong.

He looked at James. James was slumped in his chair, arm outstretched to scribble on his parchment; the quill wriggled in his hand. Sirius let out a slow breath. Now everything made sense. He had noticed something was off because there really was something wrong: James was sitting _still_ and he had not said anything since the class had started.

Sirius let out another breath and set his crossed arms on the table. He twirled the quill between his fingers. He looked at Remus. Remus's eyes were watching the board where Margania was writing some instructions. He pursed his lips. What Remus should be caring about was James, and that James was behaving really oddly James hadn't sat still in his life! He had no reason to either! Sirius understood that perfectly, sometimes it was hard to stay focused when one had to be in one spot for a long time, without even so much as-

"Black, stop playing with your quill and focus on the task," Margania barked, making him jump. He turned his face back to the front, not bothering to mask his dislike for her.

He began to write down the instructions, but his mind was not on the task; he forgot the words as soon as he had written them down. His mind was on James, struggling to decipher the mystery presented before him. He was certain Margania had something to do with his changed state. Had she threatened him? Had she… _hexed_ him? Sirius looked at him, discreetly. No, he didn't look as if he had been tied to it. Besides, if he had been hexed to stay still, his hand wouldn't be moving, his head wouldn't be bobbing as if he was struggling to stay awake.

The quill dropped from James' fingers, and James made no effort to pick it up. It stayed there, dribbling ink onto the parchment and desk. His breaths were slow and deep: had he really fallen asleep?

Sirius risked a look in Margania's direction. The teacher, however, did not seem to notice anything being amiss.

Sirius ripped a piece of parchment off and threw it at Remus. The boy flinched, eyes casting Sirius an angry glare.

"What?" he mouthed.

Sirius pointed insistently at James. Remus' glare didn't waver until he saw James and noticed what was wrong. His lips thinned, and he turned back to Sirius. He shrugged, as if to say: "What's wrong with him?"

Sirius shook his head, and gestured carefully in Margania's direction. Remus frowned and turned his attention back to the front.

Sirius rolled his eyes. Great, Remus had completely misunderstood his gesture. Now he had to spend the last ten minutes of this dreadful class with his own thoughts.

* * *

Class could not have ended sooner. Sirius was trembling with annoyance when Margania finally dismissed them. The students rushed out of the classroom, but Sirius rushed to James, who had not stirred one bit.

Peter let Kingsely pass while he packed his things. His notes were scribbly, would be unreadable once the class had waned from his memory, but Peter's ability to write clean with ink was truly remarkable: there was not one blot of black on the parchment. Had he been talented, Sirius might have been tempted to believe he wrote using magic.

Peter stuffed his notes in his bag and turned to James expectantly. James did not move.

"Come on," said Sirius. "Let's go before Margania locks us in here."

"We've got wands, we could certainly open the door if she did," argued Peter.

"She is an _Auror_ ; do you really think she would lock the door with a simple charm?"

Remus touched James' shoulder. "James, you-"

James moaned and turned his head away. Or maybe he tried to lift it. Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance.

"James-" Sirius hesitated. He bit his lip. Then he shook his head. "Alright, whatever," he said, turning to Peter. "Let's pack his things and get out of here. Hurry."

Peter obeyed immediately, sliding the parchment from beneath James' arm and putting it inside the school book. He took take care storing the quill, when Remus frowned and lifted James' hand.

It was black with ink.

Remus let out a sigh. "Look at what you did," he said, shaking his head. "You know this isn't going to come out, right?" He was staring pointedly at the splotches of ink on his sleeve.

Sirius snorted. "No need to worry about _that_ – that's what house elves are there for."

Remus was about to snap something back (and a pity he never did, because Remus Lupin had a knack for having sometimes truly harsh, but hilarious, come-backs), when James groaned, effectively distracting the boys from their own banter.

"James?" the three asked all at once.

"Mhmm..." He squinted his eyes, glasses sliding down and trembling dangerously on his nose. With great effort he lifted his head. "What…"

"You, er…" Remus looked at Sirius. "Fell asleep?"

James understood, they could tell from the sudden tension in his (small) body; but it was evident he was not fully functional yet. James struggled against his own invisible bonds – there had to be a tangible thought somewhere right? He knew there was something important he was missing. What had happened last? Food? Yes, food. Mashed potatoes, and Sirius' sausage with a stronger will than his own and… and Peter's knife which was stronger than the sausage.

Where was he now? It did not look like home, home was light and warm, smelled like cinnamon and burnt jasmine, though that wooden desk did look familiar, didn't his mother have one like that? No, _this_ one was simpler, built to be sturdy rather than delicate. His mother's desk was lighter, a… an orange wood, with-

His eyes snapped open. All thoughts of his mother's desk disappeared with the blink of an eye. Margania. He was with Margania.

"Hey, it's okay," Remus said gently, pressing him down when he jumped.

James ran a hand across his face, then through his hair. His eyes felt heavy, his mind gooey. He looked up at his friends. Remus and Sirius were holding him down, but they lowered their hands once he began to calm down.

James opened his mouth, but words came slowly. "What… Did she-"

Sirius shook his head. "No, she didn't."

" _Thank Merlin_ , she didn't," Peter said breathlessly. He began to rummage in his bag.

"I kept expecting she would." Remus swallowed. "I kept expecting her to hex you or something." He and Sirius' eyes met again. _Will you or should I?_ – they seemed to ask each other.

Sirius cleared his throat. Shifted from foot to foot. "Did she uh, did she do something to you?"

"She…" James shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's all very blurry," he answered. "And… I don't know, it's like… my mind's all fuzzy, I can't… I don't remember? I don't know, last thing she said to me was… I think she warned me, if I did bad again she'd go to _Doubledoor_ -"

Remus and Sirius smiled, but did not laugh. " _Who_ , mate?" Sirius asked innocently.

James huffed, tried to punch Sirius.

"Weak, even for you, James," said Remus, grinning when that brought out a smile on James.

"Shut up…" he mumbled and this time, when he tried to stand up, his friends let him.

"Here," said Peter, and pressed a cookie into his hand. James took it gratefully.

"But seriously," said Remus now, as Sirius wrapped an arm around James to steady him. He waited until James' looked at him. "Are you really alright, James?"

James pushed his glasses back up his nose and nodded, eyes still droopy. "Yeah, my mind's a bit clearer now, don't worry."

They exited the classroom, in no hurry whatsoever. The next class was soon to begin, but they were in no hurry to reach it, not even Remus Lupin who was still quite behind on his lessons. They strolled down the corridor, went up the stairs with the speed of an elderly woman on a lazy shopping day.

The class had already begun by the time the four friends reached the room. The door was shut. The teacher's voice could be heard from behind it. Peter's hand was on the handle when James stopped them for a moment. What startled them was the discomfort on his face.

"Just… don't tell anyone about this, alright? Promise?" he said, quietly.

His friends were startled and each gave a positive response. But the sole fact he had asked them to keep this unusual event between them did not sit right with them. They did not know how – in fact, they could not quite well put a finger on _what_ exactly bothered them about this whole event – but for some reason it seemed wrong to keep this a secret.

But there was no time to ponder about this. The teacher was annoyed to see these four boys walk in so late, and with little to no remorse on their faces (that 'little' part belonged mostly to Lupin and Pettigrew). Gryffindor lost points because of it, but Sirius and James only shrugged, more than convinced they would recover the lost points at some point in the near future.


	5. Chapter 5

_A rather soon update, don't you think? ;)_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

Time passed, as it always does. October came, November passed into December, and by the time the boys left Hogwarts for Christmas they had all gotten used to Margania's teaching methods. James's initial odd behaviour had lessened, or at least they had gotten used to it, and by the time they returned from their holidays they were eager to continue having fun.

The teachers seemed to have recovered over the holidays as well; they started classes expecting hundred percent efficiency, and got angry when their expectations weren't met. There were two students who barely noticed: Sirius Black and James Potter. Their other friends, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin, couldn't afford it.

On Tuesday after lunch, James went up earlier as usual, as Margania had ordered. What had once bothered them, had now become a habit which the three boys rarely questioned. They took their time joining the others, strolling along and catching up after the brief separation.

Boys are loud by nature, and upon entering the classroom they made sure to be extra noisy, bothering the girls in the process. They, however, had only contempt and huffs to give, and turned their back on them. Sirius could only shake his head disapprovingly.

"Poor girls," he said. "Never up for some fun."

The girls ignored him; in fact, they never even heard him.

Sirius greeted James with a clap on the shoulder, before leaning his bag against the table. "I see you still live."

"Barely," James said, looking up with a grin. "I came a bit later than she liked."

"Oh..." Sirius frowned lightly, and studied James for a moment, but his friend looked like he always did. "Did she get angry?"

James shrugged. "Not too much - at least for her standards."

"Did she say something?" asked Remus, placing his heavy bag on the floor. His lips twitched. "She, uh, didn't hex you to the chair, didn't she?"

"No, that's illegal she said."

Sirius snorted. "She would hex us all if she could get away with it."

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Kingsley joined their conversation. "She's not someone to act outside the law."

"True," said Remus.

"I think Sirius meant she'd hex us if it was legal," Peter said.

"I did, thank you Pete." Sirius gave him a slight nod, before glancing briefly at the door. He gripped James's shoulder. "Listen mate, if she did something, if she threatened you-"

James shrugged him off, annoyance twisting his features. "Stop," he said. "It's not like they'll do something about it."

His eyes widened. "So she _did_ do something!"

"Sirius, do I _look_ like she did something to me?"

Sirius studied him very carefully. James' glasses stood crookedly atop his nose, his black hair was messy as always, and his tie would have made his house elf hysteric. There was a tightness to his mouth – probably due to his frustration, but that couldn't be it, could it?

He leaned back and shrugged. "I guess you look like you always do," he conceded.

James lifted a shoulder, and propped his arms on the desk, accidentally throwing his quill off the table.

"Oh." He moved to pick it up, but in the process knocked his bag from his chair. "Oh no-" He forgot about the quill and lifted his bag, but he grabbed it on the wrong end and the contents fell out.

A dungbomb was among it.

And Alecto stepped right on it.

"Aw shit," James said.

It took Alecto three seconds to fully realise what had happened. And by the time she started screaming, everyone else took notice of the disaster.

McDonald gasped and covered her mouth and nose. "What is that?" she cried.

James jumped on the table and reached for the window, but was too short to reach the handle. Remus gagged; blinded by tears, he tried to assist James, while Peter poured water over the leaking dungbomb.

"It's not working!" Peter shouted, voice muffled since half his face was hidden by his cloak.

Sirius had retreated to the exit. His body was shaking with laughter. Students kept walking into the classroom, and Sirius got the full enjoyment of seeing their clueless faces turn in disgust.

"What the-"

"Who did this?"

"Potter, was it you?"

"Of course it was Potter! Who else could it be?" shouted Severus Snape who opened a window by magic.

"Alecto! You did this!"

"Did not – shut UP!"

Kingsley stumbled out of the classroom, swatting Sirius's hand away when the boy tried to pat him on his back. "'m not feelin' so-" His face paled, his eyes widened. He lowered his hand and stood straight, barely daring to lift his eyes. "Morgana Professor."

"It's Margania, Mr. Kingsley."

The class turned quiet.

"Sorry, Professor."

Margania took one step inside and stayed there. She stood very still, cool eyes looking everything over. Sirius watched her from the corner of his eyes. He stood very still as well.

"I see," was the only thing she said. She fished her wand out of her pocket and with a sharp flick of a hand all windows flew open. James, who had been yanking on a window handle to open it, almost fell off the table.

Remus offered his hand to help him down, but James froze when he noticed Margania. He let out a sigh, then took Remus's offered hand.

"Do I need to ask what happened or will you confess at once?" she asked him, eyes staring him down.

James kept his arms behind his back and his eyes politely down. "It was an-"

She huffed a laugh. "An accident? Colour me surprised."

James stayed silent.

Poor Remus tried to help. "Please, professor, his bag fell and-"

"Mind your _place,_ Lupin," she said, sharply. "Don't make this worse, you're on the list as it is."

Remus dropped his eyes and fell quiet immediately. He pressed his lips together and hid his trembling hands in his pockets.

The flush on James's face darkened, but not out of embarrassment. Fire filled his chest like a balloon. He knew it was a bad idea, but suddenly nothing mattered but Margania and Remus.

"It's not Remus's fault," he said, struggling to keep his voice under control.

"There's no need to defend him."

"There is, with people like you around."

A ghostly hush fell upon them all. Sirius's jaw fell open; Peter trembled, barely daring to watch. Even Severus Snape was too shocked to enjoy this.

Margania's face turned hard like stone. "I see," she said again. Her mouth twisted in a way the students did not like at all.

James noticed too, but again he did not care. His hand twitched. Remus stood very quiet beside him, but he was sure his friend was still trembling. He wished he could comfort him, but Remus was really bad at being comforted. It was easier to simply slap him.

With a sigh, he turned to the leaking dungbomb. "Should I clean this up, professor? Or is it just detention this time?"

Severus Snape could not believe the blatant disregard of authority in Potter's voice. Something cold and dark flowed with the blood in his veins, something addictive and pleasurable. He almost hoped Potter would never get expelled so that he could continue to feel this way.

Margania inhaled sharply. "You will clean up the entire classroom while we continue with our lesson in the next room, and then you'll stay here to write down what you've done wrong; and only when you've done that will I let you join us." She took another breath to control the barely suppressed rage in her voice. "And then, Potter – _then_ you'll have detention for the rest of the week." She gave a sharp nod. "That's fifty points from Gryffindor."

The Gryffindors groaned, and followed Margania out of the classroom, all the while throwing deathly glares at James Potter.

"You shouldn't've done that…" Remus whispered.

James pointed a finger at him. "We'll talk later," he said and sounded terrifyingly like his mother.

His friends hesitated, but James wouldn't have it. "No point if you get attention too."

"Uh, you mean detention," said Peter.

Sirius ruffled Peter's head. "Doesn't matter. But James, are you sure-"

"I can write that thing for you, if you want," Remus offered.

James waved a hand. "Nah," he said. "She wants to make my life miserable, but she forgets it works both ways."

The three boys shuffled to the adjourning classroom, heads lowered as if chains were wrapped around their necks. All four of them felt miserable, but James's anger still burned strong, and Remus's misery kept his spirit down.

* * *

Naturally, the hardest part of cleaning up after throwing a dungbomb was getting rid of the stench. Winter was in full bloom, cold wind seeped through the open windows, but he could not close them yet.

James shivered, rubbing his arms to keep himself warm. The anger had faded. And now he felt… he did not know how he felt. Afraid - of Margania? Yes, maybe, but not really.

Her method had worked before the holidays; at first he had stayed still during class, but his mind had been in a truly unpleasant state. Like trying to watch a forest through a thick fog. It had left his head throbbing and mushy. After that first class, Margania explained that she had miscalculated and reduced the dose. It took a few tries until they found the right amount. And then it worked. His mind was clearer than ever before. He had even tested it. He wrote just fine, he could sit still for once even if sometimes he was too lazy to control his mouth. The success had dimmed the bad feeling Margania had left him with. For a moment he had thought that maybe she was so not bad at all.

Boy, how wrong he had been. What she had said to Remus… James clenched his fists, speeding up his pacing. If she had been a man and anything but his teacher, he would have punched her. With his fists.

 _Mind your place_.

James had heard of people like her. That they actually existed was the worst discovery he had made so far.

It was boredom that drove him to sit down and write that thing.

"What I did wrong…" he muttered, applying extra pressure on the parchment as he underlined the title. "I… wrote my _howemork_ , but it wasn't complete. I _forgto_ to write the conclusion and _somenith_ more but I forgot.

"2) I _propaply_ shouldn't _haue_ taken that stink _bom_ to class. I forgot I had it. I dropped it by accident.

"3) Need to _writ_ letter to Mum and Remus needs _choclate._ Also _order moore_ stink bombs for-"

He shook himself and scratched out the last part. He had to concentrate. The last thing he wanted was to sit in this stinking classroom any longer just because he let his mind drift. With narrowed eyes, James took great care it fixing the mistakes in his short text.

He held the parchment at arms' length. "Is it readable?" he wondered aloud. He shrugged. " _I_ can read it."

He doodled a flower on a wrinkled corner on the parchment. He smiled at it, then groaned as he hid his head in his hand.

"I'm so BORED!" he yelled and jumped up to his feet, chair creaking as he pushed it back.

And that was how he spent his time: pacing, looking outside the window, doodling on another piece of parchment and writing the text Margania had ordered him to.

When Margania finally entered the now freezing classroom, the first thing she asked was to see the text. Giving it one last glance, he handed it over to her. His leg was bouncing.

Margania noticed, but was soon distracted by the content of his assignment. She arched a brow.

"I see you've not made any progress in writing, Mr Potter," she said.

His brows furrowed. "I fixed some mistakes-"

She placed the parchment on the table. "Do you call this legible?"

He worried his lips. "Hm..."

She pointed at a sentence. "And this... 'Animagus book for research purposes' - that is not relevant to anything concerning this class - and you wrote 'purposes' wrong."

"I can't help it!" he said. "My mind moves faster than my quill."

That made her pause. "Perhaps... It seems the dose you take has lost its effect." She hummed. "And no, I don't suppose you have the capability of controlling yourself."

"Hey! I do have _some_ self control!"

Her eyes narrowed unperceptively. "Is there anything you take seriously, Potter?"

He gave her an odd look. "Some things, yeah."

"Aside from Quidditch and your dungbombs!" She broke off and exhaled deeply. "I have another vial with me. It was meant for the next class, but - we will have to make do."

"It's not my fault I can't sit still! The chairs -"

"You will have to go through worse in life, Potter," she snapped. "Better start building some character while you still have some kind of support system."

"Wha-"

"Pranks and mischief do not count. They have the opposite effect."

He gave her another odd look. He nodded. "Okay," he said, understanding even less than before.

She released a sigh. After a brief pause, she shrugged and fished a small vial out of her pocket. "I will let you join the class," she said and held out the vial to him. "Take this-"

James groaned. "But I already-"

" _No – whining – Potter,"_ she gritted. "That too is a sign of a weak character." He took the vial with a scowl. Margania crossed her arms.

"I understand you are bored. You are a bright boy, Mr Potter, I'd hate to see that much talent wasted."

James said nothing. Instead he swallowed the potion in one go and stood up to follow Margania into the adjourning classroom, all the while glaring holes into her back.

* * *

The boys had been scared for James at first. Sirius refused to participate in class, even though the more time passed the more bored he felt. And Remus was still recovering from the Margania's humilliating response from before. So James joined their class, they couldn't help but sigh in relief. James was his old self, though a hint of irritation tightened his lips.

He sat quite calmly, and though Sirius took everything he was doing as a bad sign, there really wasn't much evidence that Margania had done something bad to him. He tried asking Remus, but he absolutely refused to respond.

Everyone was in a hurry to leave when time finally came to a close. But of course things could not end there. No, Margania gave them extra homework to catch up on the time lost in the beginning of the class. No one was happy when they left, but they left eagerly nonetheless. The Gryffindors headed over to History of Magic, and the Slytherins to Herbology.

"How did the writing go?" Remus asked, while they strolled down the corridor.

"I tried to fix the text the best I could," James said, running a hand through his hair, "I didn't get all mistakes of course."

Remus smiled. "You got bored."

He sighed, spreading his arms. "Yeah, and then I forgot to finish it."

"Really? What did you do instead?" asked Peter.

James yawned and dragged a folded parchment out of his pocket, and handed it over to Sirius.

Sirius's eyes brightened and a broad grin split his mouth. "That's an awesome plan, even for you."

James smirked. Remus snatched the parchment out of Sirius's grasp. He furrowed his brows, and his mind began to work furiously as he decrypted the near illegible writing and sketches from James's hand.

"This... this could really work," he said and gave the parchment to Peter.

Peter frowned. "This will be a lot of work," he said. "The castle is huge!"

James patted his back, a dreamy smile on his lips. "That's why there's four of us, Pete," he replied, and shook his head to clear his mind. "If each one of us gets a wing-"

"We can't get caught mapping the castle," Remus warned.

"No problem, we simply use a hiding or invisibility spell in case someone wants to know what we're doing," Sirius countered, throwing his arm over James's shoulders.

"How detailed should it be?" Remus asked. "Because I'm thinking… it's so much work we might as well do it right from the get-go."

"We'll need to make a draft anyway," Sirius answered. "One while we're mapping the whole thing, and then the final result."

"What about the stairs, though?" Peter asked. "They move all the time."

Sirius waved a hand. "Details. We can fix than when we reach that stage."

They entered the classroom and took a seat. Since Professor Binn's didn't care about anything but his subject, the students generally could sit wherever they liked. _Generally._ James and Sirius had successfully managed to break that rule: they weren't allowed to sit next to each other ever again. Now James sat next to Remus, and Sirius next to Peter, but in such a way that James sat one row behind Sirius. Professor Binn never noticed.

As the hour progressed, Remus had more and more trouble keeping James sitting up.

"James…" he hissed, trying to hold his shoulders up while simultaneously taking notes, smearing the ink in the process.

James huffed, lips curling in annoyance. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, propping his knee against the edge of the desk. His eyes drooped, lids surrendering to the heavy weight, his lashes brushing his cheeks. Warmth suffused his body, the kind of warmth that only sleep can give: he felt like a cotton cloud, or like a cat enjoying the last rays of the sun.

He made a startled sound when Remus pulled his head up – he hadn't noticed his nose was touching his knee. James shook his head, trying his best to clear his mind, but his mind wouldn't cooperate. He picked up his quill and made an effort to follow Binns's rambling, but his sight blurred, his hand slipped and ink spread a thick, shaky line over the parchment.

They were planning a long-term project. That much he remembered. Yes, and it had been his idea even. A map. A Hogwarts map. And the teachers, none of them would ever find out. James scribbled down 'map', focusing really hard in writing the letters in the right order.

There was something else, though. But what? Was it even important? Or could it wait until he had rested his eyes a bit?

BANG

The students flinched at the dull, but loud sound. James's forehead had hit the desk, and the boy was still. Everyone but Binns was staring. Remus bit back a groan.

"James…" he hissed, shaking his friend. Sirius leaned forward, over his desk, to shake his shoulder, James remained sound asleep.

Remus tried waking him once again, even going so far as to trying to lift his head by his hair – all in vain.

He heard giggles – something like "classic Potter" – but Remus did not feel amused in the least.

* * *

 _Until next time!_


End file.
